


defence mechanism

by spoopdeedoop



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, This Is A Little Fucked Up, actually a lot fucked up, because it's one am and i suck at everything, but yeah okay have this, connor is a clueless bitch, connor's smoking but idk, evan is a pining bitch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:02:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25488181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spoopdeedoop/pseuds/spoopdeedoop
Summary: He couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed. Properly. As in, as if he were enjoying himself.(or: the author found something cool on the internet)
Relationships: Alana Beck/Zoe Murphy (mentioned/implied), Evan Hansen/Connor Murphy
Comments: 3
Kudos: 68





	defence mechanism

**Author's Note:**

> so one of my friends mentioned to me that laughter was a way of defending oneself; so like, a distress call, basically. and i thought it was cool, so i looked into it, and what came up wasn't exactly the same, but awfully similar.
> 
> so i decided to fly with my friend's definition rather than the scientifically proven one hahaaaah
> 
> forgive me if the tense is all fucked up, I'm sleepy

There had been a time, when he was fifteen, when Evan had found himself searching up the reasons humans expelled laughter. Most results came up with the theory that laughter was purely a defence mechanism; a sound emitted to guard one from overwhelming anxiety and stress. A cry for help.

And Evan had believed that definition faster than he’d realised.

It made sense. He laughed when he found himself in situations where he suffered. Just a tiny sound, because his body was dumb. Often the second party would think he was laughing at _them._

Usually the second party was Connor Murphy.

And Evan most absolutely definitely _hadn’t_ been laughing at him. He hadn’t been given enough time to explain that his mouth had a mind of its own and that he was very sorry _, I’m really sorry and dumb and I’m an idiot and I just-_ because Connor had shoved him to the ground, then stormed off.

Because he thought Evan thought he was stupid when really Evan thought _Evan_ was stupid.

So having an actual explanation for what he did that fit perfectly was sort of comforting, in a way.

But here he was, standing in the hallway of his school two minutes after classes had ended, fumbling with his shirt fabric, no idea what he was doing, or why he was still idle in the middle of the corridor watching people meet with friends to walk to the bus or reuniting with parents for the day. Something in him wanted to cry, for some reason. Crying was a good alternative for laughing. Why didn’t he just _cry_ in front of Connor.

“I don’t think staring at people is gonna make ‘em your friends.”

Speak of the devil.

Evan whipped around. “H-huh.”

“Sup.” Connor Murphy took a long drag from his joint, maintaining full eye contact with Evan the whole time, challenging him to respond.

“I…” Evan started, then stopped. Because Connor had really nice eyes. Blue. His left eye had a sliver of brown in it, like a rock in a river. They were deep and intelligent and _Jesus Christ he was staring._

Connor cocked an eyebrow at Evan as he cleared his throat, attempting to orient himself.

Evan settled on “I don’t think you’re supposed to smoke on school grounds.”

Connor waved his free hand dismissively. “To hell with the rules. Besides, it’s after hours. They can’t do shit.”

Which was a fair point, actually. Evan nodded timidly and averted his gaze, instead gazing back down the corridor, where Zoe Murphy was chatting to Alana Beck as they exited the building.

“Isn’t that your sister?” Evan noticed, quite dumbly, because _yes of course that’s his sister you absolute moron; you’ve spent a full three years staring at her._

Connor was blissfully oblivious to Evan’s inner panic attack, bringing his joint to his lips again. “Mm” was all he gave as a confirmation.

“Don’t you… take… the same car home?”

“Jesus.” Connor suddenly seems to seize up. “Hansen, are you a stalker? Are you stalking me or some other bullshit? Some fucked up way to get blackmail to use against me later?”

Evan backed away. He felt the sweat between his fists. He felt the godforsaken nervous laughter clawing at his throat. He felt the sick feeling in his gut. “N-no,” he squeaked.

Connor scoffed. “Sure. Just. Stay away from me, weirdo.” And then he spun around on his heel and walked away. Not even towards the exit.

Just.

Away.

Evan stood, stunned.

Wait.

Connor had known his last name. How?

_Weirdo._

He laughed.

And he hated it.

‘Cry for help’. Yeah. Only if somebody heard it.

The second time Connor and Evan’s paths crossed was the bus, about a week later. Evan hadn’t been paying attention to what was happening behind him as the bus halted. He was staring out the window, humming quietly under his breath, staring at the trees lining the opposite side of the road and wondering what shit they’d had to witness in their lives.

He didn’t hear the faint rustle beside him. Too lost in his own thoughts.

The bus picked up speed again. Evan watched the trees shrink wistfully.

Then, “is that Amy Shark?”

Evan tensed and gripped his backpack to his chest as he turned around to see Connor in all his bed-haired, lopsided-grin glory.

Evan blinked. “What?”

“The song you were humming. ‘Adore’. Amy Shark.”

“Um.” He swallowed. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Nice.”

Awkward silence, punctured only by the sounds of the bus rattling and incoherent conversations from the people around them.

“You don’t. Usually take the bus,” Evan found himself saying. It wasn’t even a question, it was a statement.

Connor breathed out through his nose. “Yeah, well. Things change.”

There was something in his voice that communicated that the subject was not to be explored, so Evan shut up again.

And then Connor tried to make conversation again.

Wow.

It was a weird feeling, not being the person that rushed to fill in pauses for once.

“Hey.” He nudged Evan’s shoulder gently. When Evan met his eyes again, there was an earbud being offered to him. Connected to the one in Connor’s ear. Connected to Connor’s phone.

“Oh,” said Evan, because he was stupid.

Connor made his intention clear. “You wanna listen with me?”

Evan had no idea what sort of music Connor would listen to. He figured either loud punk rock or dark angst. And he wasn’t really a fan of either of those things.

“Um.” Evan didn’t want to be rude. “Sure.” He took the earbud and Connor leaned back against the seat, evidently pleased with himself. Evan stuffed the earbud into his ear to be met with the exact song he’d been humming earlier.

_‘I’m just gonna stand with my bag hanging off my left arm_

_‘I’m just gonna walk home kicking stones at parked cars_

_‘But I had a great night ‘cause you kept rubbing against my arm_

_‘I’m just gonna stand with my bag hanging off my left arm’_

“I’m sorry,” Connor said suddenly.

Evan turned to him.

“For… for snapping at you. Those two times. I’m a complete asshole, I know. I try not to be, but…” he laughed a little under his breath. “Guess I don’t try hard enough.”

_‘Give me a drink I get drunk off one sip_

_‘Just so I can adore you’_

“I don’t think you’re a complete asshole,” Evan said. And it was the truth.

_‘I want the entire street out of town_

_‘Just so I can be alone with you’_

“I’m more of an asshole than you are, anyway.”

_‘Now go when you’re ready, my head’s getting heavy_

_‘Pressed against your arm’_

Connor smiled, and he had dimples, and Evan was suddenly helpless.

“Ha. No way. You? You’re… you’re way better. Than everyone.”

_‘I adore you_

_‘I adore you’_

It was surprising how quickly they became friends after that. Evan didn’t even notice it, at first. Connor was sometimes there, sometimes he wasn’t, and when he was there, he found ways to make Evan smile and blush, and they sometimes had these awkward joke trades, and suddenly Evan realised he had a friend.

Or maybe something more than that.

Connor was attractive; anyone with eyes knew that. All those thoughts Evan used to have about Zoe… well. They were still there, it was just. The ‘Zoe’ parts were fading like ink on skin after a few days, and were slowly, silently being replaced with ‘Connor’.

And Evan really didn’t want to have a crush on him.

Evan wasn’t _gay._ He didn’t think.

And besides.

Connor was his friend.

Best friend.

Anything more than that and his heart wouldn’t be able to take it.

“Connor!”

Connor glanced up from his spot underneath a tall oak tree. It was a Saturday, and they’d agreed to meet up at Ellison Park for, to quote Connor’s text, _‘bro time’._ And after quite a lot of research, Evan had decided that _maybe_ he was bisexual and that _maybe_ this would be a good time to come out to his friend.

But Evan did _not_ know how to be smooth.

Or subtle. Or around Connor, apparently.

Because as soon as Evan sat down, his traitorous mouth blurted, “I’m bisexual.”

Connor turned. Stared at him. Blinked about seven times.

“Oh,” was all he said. Which set off Evan’s internal PANIC NOW system, because he had no idea whether that was a surprised _oh_ or an approving _oh_ or a DISAPPOINTED _OH_ WHAT IF IT WAS A DISAPPOINTED _OH_ THAT WOULD BE BAD.

“You don’t sound happy,” Evan tried tentatively.

“WHAT. Oh my God, sorry.” Connor slapped his cheeks. “That’s just my resting bitch face. I’m happy for you, I promise.”

“Ah. Okay. Good.”

“I’m gay anyway, so.” Connor shrugged offhandedly. “I’m honestly in no position to judge.”

“Wait, really?” Evan glanced at him, taken off-guard. If Connor was gay, then… that meant…

He…

He may actually have a chance.

“Yeah.” Connor grinned. “Zoe’s pan, too. I think we’re just going to keep turning out the exact way our parents didn’t want us to turn out.”

Evan snorted.

The day de-evolved into them talking about how fucked up Jared Kleinman was and Zoe’s girlfriend Alana and, eventually, reciting old, gay vines.

It sort of came up when Connor said (in a fucked-up accent too, because he’s just extra) “‘so what happened?’”

Evan sort of collapsed into giggles because he knew what came next. In a forced whisper, “‘isuckeddick-”

“‘wHAT?’”

“I suck dick on-” and Evan couldn’t make it to the rest because he just burst out laughing after seeing the look on Connor’s face.

And…

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed. Properly. As in, as if he were enjoying himself.

This wasn’t nervous laughter. It wasn’t the shit his mouth produced when he knew he was fucked. It felt…

It felt good.

Evan clutched his stomach and dissolved into wheezing as Connor joined in, braced against the tree. Evan glanced up, met with Connor’s red face and dimples and hair draped over one eye and he was just completely and utterly head over heels for this boy.

“Ow,” Connor breathed in between giggles.

“Ow,” Evan agreed. He reached over to subconsciously take Connor’s hand. Like. He hadn’t known he’d made the movement until Connor hummed and took the offer, still smiling.

“Thank you,” said Evan.

“What, why-”

“Just. Thank you.”

The day Evan spilled his heart out had not gone to plan, like. At all.

Firstly, it was supposed to be _Evan_ spilling his heart out and not _Connor._

It started off okay. Evan had invited Connor over to his house, then wrote a twenty-six minute speech that confessed his feelings toward You Know God Damn Well Who, then trashed it, then tried to rehearse something that sounded more natural with his mirror, decided that was also trash, brought back the twenty-six minute one and tried to paraphrase it, trashed it again, then spent the remaining two minutes he had to wait for Connor to arrive on his bed screaming into his pillow-

-So yeah, _okay-_

-and then somehow Connor had found something really dumb Evan had written (not the love note, but it was pretty damn close: A diary entry Evan had ripped out of the actual journal and forgotten to throw into the wastepaper basket) and that led to this ramble of words Connor was spilling, a mess of multiple love confessions and maunders about Evan being insanely pretty and Evan you’re so fucking talented and fuck I love you.

Evan opened his mouth.

Then closed it.

Opened it again.

And just grabbed Connor’s shoulders and kissed him.

Just like that. No talking necessary.

Connor made a small noise and reached for Evan’s waist, pulling him close until they were just one being, a tangle of hair and skin and arms and hot breath and whispered _I love you_ ’s and they just kept doing that. Kissing. And it was the best experience of Evan’s _life._

Afterwards, when they were just sitting there, holding each other, Evan started to giggle, which escalated into him completely shaking with laughter.

Connor breathed out a chuckle. “what?!”

“I don’t know!” Evan buried his face in the fabric of Connor’s hoodie, still laughing, and then _Connor_ started laughing, and they just collapsed into this giggling mass of dorkiness.

So laughter may be some sort of primal defence mechanism.

But Evan liked when he had his defences down.

Especially with this particular person.

**Author's Note:**

> [adore - amy shark](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y-IoluTnuKs)  
> i love her


End file.
